A priest in North America, what the hell is the Demon Gate system?

"This is one aspect of the Dharma-ending Age..."

Li Ang continued to slow down, letting the car move slowly along the street, as if deliberately appreciating the area.

"This area is Philadelphia's most notorious open-air drug den. It's known all over the world. Some people drive all the way from other states just to see this apocalyptic scene."

Furneus's gaze swept across the scene on both sides of the street, his expression somewhat subtle: "You didn't bring me here just to show me this, did you?"

"Of course not," Li Ang admitted readily.

"My new cultivation technique can absorb the blood and qi of others to increase cultivation level. This kind of place... how should I put it, might have the guys I need, after all, the refresh rate is relatively high."

Fernéth turned to look at him, a hint of admiration in his eyes: "You mean, you want to find someone who's about to die here, and then drain him dry?"

"You can still understand me, lady. That's how it is in theory." Li Ang's tone was unwavering.

"These people weren't going to live much longer anyway. Instead of letting them waste their last bit of energy on drugs, I'd rather use it to strengthen myself. I can do more things when I'm stronger, which makes sense, right?"

Forneus was silent for a moment, then let out a meaningful chuckle: "Are you really a priest?"

Li Ang gripped the steering wheel and said calmly, "Good people don't live long, but evil people live a thousand years. To be honest, I just want to live a little longer."

The car drove slowly along Kensington Avenue for about ten minutes, with Li Ang's eyes scanning both sides of the street, looking for a suitable target.

Although there were many people on this street, they were all still alive. Although they were in very poor condition, they were not on the verge of death. In fact, they were quite excited.

"I can't just turn on my vaping device in the street, can I? Let's wander around a bit more, there's still plenty of time," Li Ang thought to himself.

He drove around the area twice, but still couldn't find his ideal target.

Ferné, sitting in the passenger seat, quipped, "Your efficiency is too low. How about I go down and grab a couple for you to enjoy in the alley, Father?"

"If you keep jumping around like that, I'll suck you up first." Li Ang glanced at Fenneus, who immediately shrank her legs in fright.

Li Ang circled around again but still found nothing, so he finally decided to stop and eat something first.

Li Ang parked his car in front of a shop with a yellow signboard and red lettering that read "NEW CHINA".

The shop window was covered with faded menu pictures: sweet and sour chicken, fried noodles, and fried rolls—all standard American-style Chinese food.

"Let's eat something first. We can't just keep eating fish food and holy essence, can we?" Li Ang said, pulling out the key and unbuckled his seatbelt.

Furneus's face flushed red instantly: "You—!"

Ignoring the nun's shame and indignation, Li Ang slammed the car door shut, walked to the front of the car, and waved to Furneus.

"Sister, I'm about to lock the car. If you don't want to be roasted like a dried fish in the car, you'd better get out now."

Fennes took a deep breath, suppressing the urge to hit someone, and finally got out of the car, lifting her skirt.

Li Ang pushed open the shop door, and the bell hanging on the door made a crisp sound. The cool air from the air conditioner mixed with the smell of cooking oil wafted out.

The shop was small, with only five or six tables covered with white plastic tablecloths and a glass plate on top. Several Chinese posters and menus were pasted on the walls; they looked quite old, with yellowed and curled edges.

The prices aren't expensive; a chicken sandwich costs only about $3, and with the various drinks, it's even more affordable than prices in Uldum.

An old-fashioned television was hanging on the ceiling, playing the 86 version of Journey to the West. The volume was very low, and it was hard to hear what was being said, but just by looking at the screen, you could tell that it was showing the Kingdom of Chechi.

Behind the counter stood a middle-aged Chinese man, wearing a white apron stained with oil, holding a spatula and flipping the slices of meat on the hot plate.

He looked up when he heard the doorbell and saw a young Chinese man in priest's robes and a young woman in nun's robes walk in. He paused for a moment, the shovel in his hand stopping in mid-air.

"Are you a priest?" he asked tentatively in Chinese.

"Mm," Li Ang replied in Chinese.

"Is there any food left?"

The shop owner snapped out of his daze and quickly nodded, "Yes, yes, yes, order whatever you want."

Li Ang glanced at the menu on the wall and casually said, "Two chicken sandwiches, a Coke, and a lemonade, please."

"Okay." The shop owner first came over and placed a can of cola and a glass of lemonade, then turned around and went into the kitchen, where the sizzling sound of frying meat could be heard soon.

Li Ang and Ferné sat down at a table near the cashier. The plastic chair surface felt sticky, causing Ferné's skirt to stick and making her hesitate. She had to shift her position slightly forward, leaving a scratch on the greasy floor where she hadn't cleaned properly.

After settling down, Ferné glanced around the small shop and said with some dissatisfaction, "Couldn't you have chosen a better one..."

"That's called being down-to-earth. In my experience, the best food in big cities is often not in the upscale areas, but rather in the alleyways where the real delicacies are found, understand?" Li Ang shook his finger and answered confidently.

"You seem to know quite a lot about food."

"There's no other way, maybe I can make a documentary about the taste of America."

The two had barely sat down when the bell on the door rang again, and the shop door was pushed open once more.

A person strolled in unsteadily.

It was a white male, probably in his thirties or forties, with unfocused eyes, dilated pupils, chapped lips, and traces of foam at the corners of his mouth.

He was wearing a gray sweatshirt, the cuffs and collar worn faded, and the hem stained with dirt. His jeans had a hole at the knee, revealing dirty skin underneath—a typical homeless look.

His steps were unsteady, each step as if he were testing the ground beneath his feet. After four or five steps, he stopped, his gaze sweeping around the shop before finally settling on the table where Leon and Fernéus were sitting.

Then he walked straight over here.

Leon was facing away from the door. As the man approached, Ferné chuckled and said, "Father, is this the kind of person you need?"

Li Ang took a sip of cola and shook his head slightly: "Not so."

However, at that moment, a loud, accelerating car sound suddenly rang out, accompanied by a series of rapid gunshots.

"Boom—!! Crash!!"

Before the homeless man could react, a black Cadillac crashed straight into the store, sending countless shards of glass flying. The white homeless man was sent flying like a ball, crashing into the cashier's counter before collapsing at Li Ang's feet.

The flying glass shards and pebbles were stopped by an invisible force when they came within a meter of Leon and Fernéus.

Li Ang glanced at the Cadillac Escalade that had been thrust into the shop, then at the man at his feet who was now barely breathing, and smiled helplessly:

"This is indeed the kind of talent I need."